Carpe et Capere

Chapter 4

**Trigger Warning**: Crude dick joke

The light of dawn broke out against the cloudy sky as Amoril launched apart her eyelids and sat up quickly in her bed. The next morning had come and she was in for the long haul of it. She sprang up and put upon her armor so quickly that she barely even registered the transition from velvety soft cloth to hard, heavy leather and metal.

She set a firm, grim smile on her plump lips as she blinked at her reflection in the mirror, quickly brushing her teeth, hair and hurrying off to the dungeons where her charge-know it or not-was waiting for her. She had a skip in her step as she rushed the halls that were gradually filling with golden, white hot light.

She made it to the cool, dark dungeons within minutes of her awakening. Luckily, at this time of day, the other guards were still crumpled in their metal chairs, snoozing on top of one another, feet twitching slightly here and there.

Amoril eased her footfalls into softer wisps of sound, tiptoeing past the guards who barely moved past the grumbles of their sleepy worlds.

She raced as quietly as she could towards the prince's cell, tapping briefly on the golden shield as she surveyed Loki's room.

"Loki," she hissed beneath her breath, practically waiting to see her exhalations cloud before her hazel eyes as it was that cold in the area.

A pair of bored yet distraught green eyes swiveled to Amoril's presence.

He hadn't slept an ounce.

She could tell by the way the wrinkles crowded the edge of his eyes, his lids heavy as the sluggish balls rolled around uselessly. He was trying to stay awake but the horror befallen him had sent panic rolling through his system that competed easily with his yearning to depart from his consciousness. He was more asleep than awake but his mind had refused to shut down-Amoril knew the feeling.

"Loki?" She asked this time, hoping to see a spark of recognition flash inside those green orbs.

Instead they remained dim and quite dead.

Amoril took a step forward, adrenaline now pumping through her frame. She raised a cool hand just as her boots crunched upon some foreign sound.

She glanced down, more curious than anything, and when she realized the pink powder and shards of glass were the same as the medicine Eir had begrudgingly gave to Alastor-her blood boiled in rage.

"The Bastard," Amoril sighed heavily, her eyes narrowing into slits.

"The one and only," Loki barked back as a laugh rattled through his ribcage.

Hazel eyes flew back up to meet his as she imperceptibly tilted her head, realizing she needed to gain his favor and one unlucky bastard was as good a way as any.

"Alastor oversees your care," she pronounced slowly, as though she were caught in a web bordering between inquisition and musings.

"If you can call it that," Loki muttered as though bored. Hell, maybe he was-but curiosity was starting to splash into his line of vision.

"He broke your vial," Amoril echoed in thought.

Loki merely nodded with a shaking of his head as though his body were frozen in time.

"Have you come to aid his threats?" Loki implored in a tight, collapsing croak.

Amoril's brows rose automatically-but not so much in shock at the information but surprise that Loki was letting her in so quickly.

Meanwhile, Loki on the other side was kicking himself for the reveal he hadn't meant to speak aloud.

"He's threatened you?" Amoril asks instead, wondering in what way but catching herself when she went to ask in a specific manner.

Let him talk to you. Let him use and own his words, she thought to herself as Loki pursed thin lips, his jawline more apparent than Amoril felt it had been even a night ago.

"Only once or twice," Loki mentioned with a drawl that left Amoril second guessing. Maybe he wasn't ready-.

"I can't stand Alastor, to be honest. He's already proven to be a careless and dangerous guard. He's let one too many prisoners drop through his bloody fingers in the past-who is to say he won't again? If he's harmed you, Loki, I need to know so I can get you help." She pleaded softly, noticing when her voice rose in panic and trying to get back ahold of herself as she stared with such deep compassion at the forgotten demigod.

"No one wants to help me." Loki grumbled, eyes leaving Amoril's as other words caught in his throat.

"I do. I care. I came in when you were convulsing on the floor of your room-and it was I who took you to Eir." Amoril's eyes searched Loki's face and hope sparked anew when his surprised eyes stared back at her, his mouth parted open. "She gave you medicine but she fears what this ailment is and thinks she doesn't have the resources available on Asgard to help you." Amoril set an open palm to the echoing, low hum of the shield separating them from one another. "I have an idea, however, but I need your help. I need your co-operation. And if Alastor is already trying to sabotage your well-being, then I need to know that, too." Amoril bit her lip, hesitantly. "Can you trust me, Loki?"

By this point, the younger prince was sitting up in his bed, leaving behind the warm imprint of his body from the sheets. He looked impassively over to Amoril and just as her heart skipped a beat in preparation of snarls and hisses he said:

"Why did you bring me there?"

She blinked and let out an airy chuckle.

"Because you deserve every bit of love, healing and compassion as any other being." She looked upon him with care so deep in her veins that her eyes watered.

"You don't know what I've done," Loki replied gravely.

"I know that you deserve a second chance. I know that you deserve it more than any other captive. You have had an unforgiving upbringing but you are not what happened to you. You don't deserve to be treated any lesser than than you have already. I know your soul is broken into shards like this glass. I may not understand the depths of your pain, yet I know how it impacts you. I know you have committed acts that have not been forgotten by my mind and I know that as a guard of these dungeons that it is not my job to make your sentencing, your life, any more difficult. You are paying the price of your crimes by being trapped here-guards like Alastor want to see you crumble.

"I don't. I want to see you rise. I want to see you finding forgiveness not only from those you love but from yourself as well. You have been through such immense trauma, and with your health suddenly failing you, you are in no condition to be played with before death falls upon you."

Amoril licked her lips, her mouth feeling suddenly dry. "I know you do not know me but I feel as though I've known you for centuries. I have been by your side before, and I will be by it again, too. I know your trust is hard to earn, and I know I am asking a lot out of you; however I need you to be by the side of life and resiliency. I need you to fight for your life if not for yourself than for now, for me, as someone who believes in you." Amoril gazed intently back at the demigod who was taking in her words gradually and with bated breath.

He nodded over her words, thinking to himself-of what she had no idea. She flicked her gaze quickly over her shoulder, fearing the sleeping occupants would be waking soon.

"Thor and I are working on ways to help you," Amoril informed the prince and Loki shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his brother before Amoril's attention was sent to him again.

"Can you trust me?" she asked and waited for his response.

Loki's lips formed a frown as he considered his options.

If this was truly an interaction occurring in reality and not just one he had hallucinated completely, than surely this guard was different than the rest. The fact that she was a woman in this profession was striking in and of itself but the added notion that she believed in forgiveness and the humanity within even the lowest of the low was vastly impressive. Besides, she had already helped him once before and she appeared to Loki as genuine.

He looked to her again: attempting to memorize the details of her features. Her hazel eyes oozed warmth and kindness he hadn't seen since Frigga last visited. She had cream colored skin that blended around the brown of her hair, a few dangling strands falling around her ears. Her lips were bare of gloss, appearing as though she had ricocheted out of bed to come be by his side rather than care for the details of her appearance, which he appreciated more than he thought he would. Her brows were a soft brown, her long brown hair tied in a messy ponytail away from the roundness of her lightly blushing cheeks. Her teeth were white and shiny but there was a hint of apprehension and what the demigod assumed was sleep deprivation also hidden within her look.

Her armor spoke of a warrior and a guard-pure professionalism. Her spirit spoke of light, caring love, love almost blinding yet not necessarily without caution and common sense.

Loki raised his chin a little higher then, feeling more empowered than at any other point of his punishing.

If she could believe in him more than even Frigga could, well, it was worth a shot, wasn't it?

Green eyes dancing with light, he asked, "What do you want to know?"

{***}

Amoril's heavy boots resounded in the empty, slightly filling hallway, as she marched from the dungeons to the elder prince's bedroom. Her body crumpled at the burden of Loki's tales of Alastor the Bastard. How he'd been more than starved, verbally and emotionally abused, kicked, not sent help for his health scares and now being threatened with rape, death or both by the stroke of midnight if Alastor is to deem Loki worthy of such heinous crimes.

The news made Amoril's spirit inflame with anger-wondering to herself if Alastor had planned his actions to Zaid back in the day, rather than acting impulsively. It made her stomach sick.

What was worse: knowing trauma was coming to you and being powerless to escape it or having trauma unexpectedly occur with seemingly no "good reason"? Not that there deemed an approvable reason to cause harm onto another, at least in Amoril's mind.

She didn't have an answer either way-and maybe the ramifications of experienced trauma meant more than the comparisons of pain that were so very subjective-and that made her breathless as she knocked on the door of Thor's quarters, almost reliving the panic that had found its home in her chest the day prior.

Thor quickly opened his arms and his door as he scurried Amoril inside.

"What did you find?" was Thor's main question, not bothering to pause which she admired because her heart was racing and time was against them.

"Alastor is planning to harm Loki by midnight tonight unless we get him out of there." Amoril replied, eyes downcast, hoping Thor would pick up on her hesitations subconsciously but not so much as to question her outright. She felt, at the time, that not revealing the details of his threat to Loki would mean Thor could focus on the bigger picture which was rescuing his brother.

She wondered absently why he hadn't been visiting as he spoke next, "And you think Midgard is the right place?" He sounded reluctant. She could hasten a guess as to why.

"Do you know of any other realms that would welcome Loki back?"

Thor bristled-so she wasn't stupid, then.

"And you're under the impression that Midgard will?" Thor's icy blue eyes pierced hers.

Amoril shrugged. "Probably killing him won't be their first choice, unlike other realms."

Thor conceded her point.

He began his next request nervously.

"…We need my father's blessing."

Amoril sighed, eyes shifting away before returning sadly. "Thor, I don't believe we'll receive it." Her stare was glum and mournful.

"We have to try," the thunder god insisted.

Amoril stood, somewhat shakily as her empty stomach growled its protests.

"I will," she stated, looking to Thor. "You go to Eir and I will meet you at Yggdrasil to speak with Heimdall." Her eyes shone in seriousness. "No one else must know of this. We have to lie low. Understand?" She quirked a brow to him and he quickly nodded.

"Tonight, we rescue." Thor said, almost numbly.

How had things gotten to this point?

Amoril agreed.

"Tonight we rescue."

{***}

It was while the young guard was stuffing her pockets with breads, cheeses and pastries that she allowed herself to think back to the conversation she had had with the second prince.

Namely, she considered her options going forwards. Naturally she felt needed in his care and her heart was speaking to her to accompany Thor to Midgard but her brain held its doubts.

On the one hand she felt like a trusting and familiar face. On the other, she feared she would be over-stepping boundaries.

Maybe there was more she could do on their home planet, convincing the Allfather to sentence crimes against his seemingly golden boy, Alastor.

She couldn't help but to pray, then, that the king would listen to her. But her doubts encircled the tendrils around her mind.

Maybe if she went with the princes to Midgard she could act as a buffer between their strained relationships. Maybe Loki was already trusting in her that she'd be there for him-physically and emotionally-though if she asked him he would never admit it.

Amoril stuffed a thick, creamy pastry into the confines of her mouth, eagerly. She had to eat. She had to keep up her energy as she twirled away from the banquet hall, keeping her head and gaze down so as not to draw attention to herself as she traveled.

Luckily, few seemed interested in her past a few furrows of their brows or a shifted glance in her direction.

Before she knew it, she was at the throne room.

She took a deep breath past the sugary remnants between her cheeks, running a sticky hand through the fraying strands atop her head.

I can do this, she thought. I've got this.

She released a few steadying breaths, thinking to herself how different the Allfather had been since his grief encompassed his soul. She knew the pain all too well. Her first few months after her father's death were dark and encircled by meaninglessness and desperation to heal, desperation to remain whole and intact.

She thought of this as she rapped knuckles upon his door, entering only when receiving a grunt of acknowledgement in return.

Maybe his pain of losing their Queen and losing his second born to the depths of darkness few had realized in time to change the course of, weighed on him heavier than any could predict or pretend to imagine. Odin, Allfather, wasn't himself and Amoril prayed it wasn't this version of a stranger that would continue to make decisions against the aid of their second prince. She feared the elder man wasn't thinking clearly and with his alliance potentially in line with Alastor… She feared there was little anyone could do to reach out and find him.

She didn't know if the future would mean for him to regret his harsh, abrasive attitude towards his second son or make little to no difference-but she hoped that with time he would change his mind.

It was just that she and Thor had to ensure this possibility by giving to Loki aid in his health problems that many in this situation seemed to be ignoring. If even Eir didn't know what, why or how Loki's symptoms were persisting and progressing-they couldn't even know the extent of it since Alastor has been "watching" over Loki-then what hope could they have that this planet would be the integral part of Loki's recovery? Maybe it was the fresh pair of eyes that wouldn't treat Loki with razor sharp claws and hot, curdling breath that the young boy required to get better.

Loki's ailment wasn't something any on this planet had witnessed before-not that Amoril was aware of-and the panic of that was so large, Amoril couldn't comprehend how Odin and Alastor so fully believed it was a trick, a lie, a farce.

Yet Amoril knew she couldn't do much to make them see what she saw or believe what she believed.

For now, she set shaky breaths into the air surrounding her and Asgard's king.

"Allfather," Amoril whispered, saluting to the power that sat within this room.

Odin looked to her, weariness in his stare that she hadn't seen in a long time.

She tried to pick up the pieces of her broken heart as she spoke. "I am here for Loki."

The Allfather recoiled, spitting venomously. "And what of him?"

The cruelty of his tone caused a flash of judgment to rain down upon Amoril, who unleashed a heavier breath than she registered she was holding.

"He is your son." It sounded like a question because of the strain in her voice, when truly it was thickly clogged emotion of shock and disbelief that cradled her words in a tight hug.

"Adopted," Odin remarked gravely.

"And does that make all the difference?" Amoril's eyes diluted with rage.

"You have come to me," Odin reminded, patiently. "Why?" Before she could interject, he continued, "To speak highly of a prisoner? Or to argue that Loki's treatment should be higher merely because he is related to the royal family?" Odin looked down at her from the slope of his nose. "You have a soft spot for him that he does not deserve."

"He has earned it for putting up with your disapproval," Amoril replied haughtily, surprising even herself with how vehemently she spoke up for the prince.

"You love him," Odin cooed teasingly.

"Only as you should have through all these years." Amoril observed, throwing back her distaste at the leader of her realm. Carefully she asserted, "You are a powerful king, Allfather and a terrible parent-if only to Loki. Your actions-your neglect-have created irrevocable damage that caused others in this realm and the next to pry apart an innocent soul who wanted nothing more than to belong, be loved and be approved of." Amoril paused. "You were his father and yet you failed him in that regard. You were meant to keep him safe, to protect him yet you showed him the cruelty of the world before he was ready to face it himself with the tools you were made to teach him on how to handle it.

"These are your failures staring back at you. And now, when he needs you again, you shut him out? You push away his burdens for others in this realm to show him the kindness and compassion he was meant to learn by you?" Amoril shook her head.

"Why do I feel that you know of the abuse that Alastor has been bestowing upon Loki and that you hold no interest in preventing?" Amoril sighed, barely perturbed by the glare in Odin's eye, his chest heaving with fast inhalations.

"I shall have you locked aside your precious love if you are to utter another foul word!" Odin snarled.

Amoril, conveying so much of Loki then, raised her chin in challenge.

"I am not your child for you to punish. I was raised by my father, Zaid, who came to perish in your dungeons by many a guard whom disrespected their power; including that of Alastor. I will not stand by to allow another preventable death to fall upon this kingdom. My father raised me right and he would be ashamed to call himself Asgardian if he knew of your deceit and compliance to harm another individual residing in the dungeons." Amoril's fiery eyes narrowed as guards approached her from both sides.

"Enough of your treason!" Odin was calling out, teeth barred. "I know not of this so called abuse to Loki and even if I had heard it, I would not condone it." Anger sparkled in Odin's eye-but whether his words were true or not, Amoril couldn't tell.

"You have merely fell prey to the lies that Loki tells. Alastor has reported no ailments occurring to Loki in the time that he's been in the dungeons. He is serving his time for the evils he has committed. Alastor is one of my greatest guards and has nothing to gain from lying. He is a far more reputable source than the trickster. I trust in Alastor as all should." Odin commanded loudly.

The comment flew from her mouth before she had time to reconsider voicing it, "Is this trust in Alastor coming before or after you've sucked his cock?"

The silence roared in her ears as the guards now holding her widened their brown eyes, waiting for the command of their king to take her away.

Odin, for what it was worth, unhinged his jaw and shifted it back and forth, before speaking lowly. "If you love Loki so much you can enjoy your sentencing in his cell until the end of the next century."

Odin's thin lipped frown engaged with the anger inside his iris-a trace of emotion Amoril hadn't seen since Frigga's passing (which, she could admit, hadn't been very long).

Amoril didn't fight as she was taken away.

True, her roasting the King of Asgard wasn't exactly in their frame of a rescue plan but if it meant to mildly discourage Alastor from enacting his plans of harm and if it bought Amoril a way of aiding Loki while also reigniting emotion into the Allfather, then, truly, she hadn't derailed the plan, right?

Guilt pooled in her boots as she realized she'd been nervously sweating during the entire duration of her speaking. She sighed, praying that Heimdall could reason a plan with Thor after she had floundered so badly.

If nothing else, she felt catharsis after getting it all off her chest and she must have weighed the advantage of being sent away into the very place she was looking to rescue the demigod.

That's what she told herself at least as she was half-carried to the dungeons. The other guards squeezed her biceps harder than necessary and she could feel the pastrami digging into her waist.

She figured this story would be an interesting one to tell her peers about.

She smiled to herself a little: not only would this earn Loki's respect more than their previous interaction but she had succumbed to her final decision.

She was going to Midgard.

In that, she found some solace.

{***}

The demigod was wearing a heavy, red-hooded tunic as he slid down the palace's halls, sneaking behind a young healer as he followed her through the rose tinted gardens and later into the healing rooms.

Thor nearly screamed when he saw Eir watching his trying to be stealthy with an amused expression on her face.

"Too obvious?" He asked, playfully.

"Indeed," Eir affirmed, crossing her arms due to the sudden chill in the room. "You look like you're plotting something." She reminded him so much of Loki then.

His heart ached as he responded solemnly, "Well, Amoril and I are planning to be Loki's get out of the dungeons free card." He smiled sheepishly but no twinkle appeared in his eyes and he groaned internally with his lame attempt at a half-jest.

The circumstances of these events were lying heavily on his shoulders when he merely wanted to rest. But he knew he could trust Eir and he knew she would keep her word and swear the other healers to confidentiality to the rescue mission that was gradually unfurling.

If nothing else, Thor had the feeling that Eir supported them in rescuing Loki-even at the face of going against the Allfather's wishes.

"If you don't take him, I fear death will be his next predicament," Eir murmured darkly, eyes awash with pain and confusion. "I don't think we can possibly convince the Allfather otherwise." She lowered her gaze in shame. "I do not trust Alastor." She opened her arms for Thor who greedily took up her offer.

She held him tight as she whispered, "Without Frigga to keep him comforted, I fear darkness will lead the way. We must not let that happen, not… not again." She pulled away from Thor and placed into his warm palms two vials of a pink powder.

"I pray this will help for now. Odin, Allfather, will consider your actions treason, and I know you know what that means."

Eir looked knowingly at Thor and the older sibling nodded slowly and sadly.

"There will be hell to pay." Thor said quietly.

"But Loki will be safe," Eir stated. "That is all that truly matters." She gazed fondly at Thor, considering all the ways in which he'd both grown and stayed the same.

She was pushing him towards the door next, telling him with urgency, "Go, go now. You two will need all the time you can get." Eir smiled thinly as Thor turned around at the door.

"Be safe," she whispered sincerely.

"And you as well." Thor returned. He knew, with the heaviness in his chest, this mission could tear apart the life he once knew but he resolved himself in knowing he was doing the right thing for Loki.

With Frigga gone who would be in his brother's corner? He sighed; he had to show Loki how much he meant to him. Protecting him from being assassinated or pushed into a worse health scare was one way to prove his love, right?

The more Thor thought about it, the more it seemed to him that they would need an extra set of hands, ears and eyes. Thor decided he would pass this idea to Heimdall, the Gatekeeper. It was where he was heading now, anyways.

{***}

Thor was making a sound of exasperation caught between a grunt, sigh and cry of pain.

"She did what?!" He exclaimed, mouth open and slapping a palm to his forehead.

"Amoril has…disrespected the Allfather and has been sentenced to a punishment within the dungeons." Heimdall couldn't hide his smirk and favor for the young woman.

"She was only meant to gain his blessing," Thor whined noisily.

"I do not believe she would have earned it, otherwise." Heimdall said solemnly.

"Join the crowd," Thor grumbled, rolling his eyes. "What do we do now?" Thor asked at a loss. He was biting his lip when Heimdall arched a brow.

"You get help." Heimdall's smile grew a fraction larger.

Thor immediately felt soothed, blue eyes shifting back to the Gatekeeper. A sense of glee and serenity eclipsed his awareness.

"Amoril is in your brother's cell. It should make get help easier." Heimdall stood as still as a statute which helped Thor's vision peak in clarity. "I will be here to point you to Midgard as soon as you arrive." His gaze flicked right. "But hurry, plans are changing."

Thor didn't need to be told twice.

{***}

He had awoken late that morning, his limbs feeling heavy and old, and his yawns following him around the palace as he went to switch roles with the morning guards.

Alastor chewed on some of the richly flavored meats left out for lunch as he approached the halls of the dungeons.

He wasn't surprised to see the afternoon guards swapping with the morning guards, a change of shift occurring as the prisoners looked out of their cells in boredom.

Alastor couldn't help but laugh at the prisoner's lack of interest in the change of command. Alastor was among his friends and the fools didn't realize how much danger they were in with Alastor leading them into the gallows.

It made Alastor feel powerful and he enjoyed and felt enriched in those feelings.

He was already patting a fellow guard on the shoulder as their eyes lit up with honor when he noticed something different, something…sinister.

He shifted on his feet, hand clenching in white hot anger to the other guard's cuff, making the man bite back a scathing retort or yelp of pain.

"Do we have company?" Alastor asked with interest, the maggot's cell just hidden away enough that he could only barely make out an enemy of his also cozying up with the god.

The other guard followed Alastor's gaze then huffed in agreement, "She came after speaking with the Allfather." He didn't offer more information, secretly wishing that Alastor would want to know more but having doubts that he should be the one to inform him.

"And what of her sentencing?" A carnivorous gleam resided in Alastor's eyes along with the sharp upturn of his growing smile.

"Until the end of the next century." The guard replied, spirit rising on having been chosen.

"Enough time then for us to make an example of them," Alastor cooed, staring down the large bulge of his nose.

"Indeed, sire," the guard remarked as he watched Alastor unhook his hand from its grip and danced his way down the hall.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the broad who only wanted to 'help,'" Alastor mocked, a frown settling awkwardly on his features as his voice rose to exaggerate what Amoril's sounded like.

Amoril steadied an unapprovingly, haughty glare his way.

"And if it isn't the Bastard himself," she replied, heart pounding as anger flowed through her system.

Loki, with more interest and arousal than he had had in days, glanced from one guard to the next.

This may prove to be very entertaining after all, he thought, Amoril earning more respect from the trickster than he had considered possible.

Alastor raised a brow in challenge to the lowlifes.

"No more crying to Daddy now, eh?"

Amoril opened her mouth to retort but Alastor was tsk-tsking and shaking a finger.

"Now, we wouldn't want the others to hear now, would we?" His gaze flicked to Loki's. The trickster was appearing more well put together than he had in weeks.

Time to change that, Alastor considered with contempt in his veins.

"It's nice that you brought a friend along to watch you die," Alastor said coldly, scratching a finger down the golden shield-not only functioning to keep the prisoners in but the guards out as well-a function Loki hadn't appreciated until that very moment. "And maybe your father will appreciate the view of you in Valhalla," he growled, looking to the girl. "But know this: I will slowly kill you, trickster, have her watch and then face no punishment thereafter because the Allfather and I are just that close." He thought for a moment. "In fact, the Allfather will thank me for my actions and no longer have the reminder of his failings above his head. It's truly only what Frigga would have wanted." Alastor snarled lowly, taking enjoyment out of the hurt and anger that flashed in Loki's eyes.

"That is vile!" Amoril was shrieking, standing up to break the shield but it was Loki holding her back.

"I don't make the rules." Alastor said, backing up, palms open. "I only enforce them."

His laugh echoed through the dungeons as the hearts in their chambers beat faster and faster.

{***}

Alastor plucked a lone toothpick from out of his pocket, tampering the fine wood into the corners of his teeth as he had forgotten food stuck within the tight confines. He did this act as he walked his way towards the Allfather's chambers. He was already cooking up what he wanted to say, what ways in which he would lie and how the old man would believe him by blindly trusting in him-a trust Alastor believed he hadn't yet earned.

But he liked this power that he had over individuals. And he knew that the Allfather could relate to that, in some respects.

The lies came freely to Alastor like moving through a pool of water. There would be some resistance initially but not so overpowering that it changed his actions in the end. Besides, he'd be doing the Allfather a favor by getting rid of the last thing that held him back. Alastor was really doing the Norns work.

"Allfather," he pronounced swiftly, even before the door had shut behind him.

Odin's eye stared blankly ahead, watching the shadows dance in the dim light.

He hummed to himself quietly before his gaze shifted to his guard.

"Alastor, what news have you brought to me this time?"

The comment fell harshly flat-as though the Asgardian king was twirling around with doubts and second guesses. It made Alastor's skin crawl.

Don't give up on me now, old man, he thought, even as he forced a smile onto his face.

"Amoril is getting cozy in her cell with the trickster," Alastor declared, eyes hard set with an apathy and slight indecisiveness that he tried to hide deep, deep down, but it would sometimes come out in tense situations (and this was one of them). How lightly could he dabble into what his plans were and not get caught? It made him excited with gladness and the notion gave him a rush of feelings that he just often didn't experience these days.

"Mmm," Odin sounded, eye wavering a little in its explorations of the room surrounding them.

"And Loki? What of him?" Odin's eye shone with pain, a pain Alastor couldn't quite place-for the king himself or for the second son that was estranged from his royal not-family?

Alastor laughed, "He's being taken care of."

Taken care of indeed, he thought.

Odin looked seriously at Alastor for a long, long moment. The King gauged the reaction of his most trustworthy guard but something didn't feel right. But then again, most things didn't these days.

"Do take care of him," Odin murmured slowly, considering how well he could trust this guard. Was it appropriate to share his fears with Alastor? Surely Alastor couldn't be the villain that so many painted him to be?

Odin's eyelid fell closed briefly, aching and yearning for his Queen to be by his side once more.

"I cannot lose another…" He said so quietly and voice so filled with pain that tears were brought to his eye.

"You won't." Alastor replied, almost too soon. He saluted to his King. "You won't lose another."

To him, Loki had already been lost centuries before.

A/N:

Heyyyy everyone!

Sorry it's been so long! Also my apologies if this last scene isn't quite up to par-I wrote it the same day I finished typing everything up and edited through the story, so I hope it's bearable if nothing else! I wanted to especially upload this a little before Christmas in the USA so that will be my gift to you all :] I'm hoping to update a few other stories before the end of 2019, as well!

Any who, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! It's definitely more filler for the plot but necessary all the same. What do you think: should Thor's friends be involved in the rescue mission like in TDW or should it just be Eir, Heimdall, Thor and Amoril? (Thor will find out what Alastor had planned for Loki and will be majorly pissed afterwards) I feel like either direction could work in this story and we may have enough characters involved to make it work, too. Will Odin find out what Alastor had been planning? Will we see justice for Loki in the future within Asgard?

Did you get the reference to get help? :D Also, that whole dick joke thing was totally surprising to me too when I wrote it but it came so naturally and terribly hilarious that I HAD to include it. Ahaha. Aaa, yeah.

How are you all liking Amoril so far, too? I tried to show the differences between how Alastor refers to Loki as compared to how Amoril refers to him, you get a cookie if you noticed that! Also, I mean, I could gush more about this chapter but I'll settle it here for now as I'm tired and need to get this out!

Music listened to: "Lose you to love me" by Selena Gomez.

Thank you soooo much for reading and if you have time, please leave me a review or a stream of consciousness of your thoughts or what you'd like to see me incorporate into the story next! Thanks for everything, peeps. And I hope you all have a good holiday season! xxx

(Hand)written: 12.18, 12.19, 12.20, 12.23.2019

Typed: 12.22 & 12.23.2019

Edited: 12.19, 12.22, 12.23.2019